


... ex Machina.

by HandmaidenOfHorror



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Brainwashing, Gen, Horror, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 03:58:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11889516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandmaidenOfHorror/pseuds/HandmaidenOfHorror
Summary: An alternate, darker take of the mythos presented in S03E07 (spoilers to said episode).





	... ex Machina.

The Artifact was discovered in the 13th year of the reign of 13th king of United Altea, during 13th month of an archaeological mission to Lau system. If Alteans had shared human superstitions, or had simply been cautious in examining objects of unknown origin, perhaps they could have prevented the disaster to some extent. Or perhaps it wouldn’t have changed anything, given the circumstances.  
The mission’s original objective had been to extract and examine the remains of Lau’s extinct civilization, which had most likely been destroyed by a massive solar flare. Findings of the first probes sent into fourth planet’s thin atmosphere initially seemed to confirm the hypothesis, showing miles upon miles of burnt terrain, with the difference between continents and the long lost oceans barely noticeable. And then they had discovered a gigantic crater emanating strong radiation across the entire measurable spectrum. That anomaly was where the expedition hand been sent and where the Artifact had been found.   
Initially the scientists had assumed it was not a single artifact but “Artifacts” plural, as it was discovered in two parts. However, further examination revealed it had been one structure the size of a spaceship, torn apart by an explosion of enormous proportions. An explosion that had eradicated all life on the planet. What kind of reactor could generate that much power?   
The Altean scientists lacked the equipment to answer that question. So far as they could tell, their understanding of science itself was insufficient. They could have left, but they would have been certain that no other expedition would return to the site for generations. That was unacceptable.   
And thus, the Artifact was loaded and transported to Altea.  
***  
Time passed, years spinning into generations, and generations into centuries. For all of this time, one of the great questions of Altean science was the mystery of the Artifact. No one considered the preoccupation to be strange. After all, by the time it was discovered their civilization had already found solutions for every mundane problem that had come up. They lived peaceful lives, with all their needs met. It was only logical to invest their time and effort into examining the alien Artifact. Indeed, the Artifact helped Altean civilization to develop to even greater heights, even contacting other, living, alien civilizations.   
Or, rather, nobody but Alfor. The prince had left Altea young and spent years being a part of countless diplomatic missions to many worlds. When he returned to become the 27th king of United Altea, he was more of a citizen of the universe than an Altean. And so, he was particularly perceptive of his people’s peculiarities. Why were almost all Altean resources dedicated to restoring the Artifact, when it would have benefitted them all so much more greatly if they cooperated with the Galra to stabilize Daizabaal’s unstable core? And how exactly was the restoration proceeding when there was no indication of what the Artifact was supposed to look like, let alone what purpose it had once served?   
Original reports had compared the structure to a chromosome broken in half; in its current state, the Artifact resembled a giant humanoid, with decorations similar to predatory animals. Why give it such an appearance? Alfor had read the documents in the archives dating back to the landing of Lau expedition. There had never been a physical indication of why a given element should be renovated in a given way, but the people working on the Artifact always felt what they were doing was right. This unanimous conclusion was unnerving. Why had nobody else realized it?  
But, before long, Alfor too had been caught up in the Altean obsession with the Artifact, suspicion giving way to curiosity and childlike excitement. It was obvious by then, that the Artifact was made of five separate objects. The central object had, so long ago, been torn in half by the explosion, and the halves had still not been properly reconnected. Under new king’s guidance, the goal changed from renovating the whole of the Artifact to renovating its components. Meanwhile, spacefaring and interstellar diplomacy was forgotten.  
***  
Years passed.  
Daizabaal fell apart, its survivors scattered across the galaxy. Nalquod and Rygnirath fell into a destructive war spurred by an incident on a colony world shared by both civilizations. With his diplomatic skills and powers as a king of the most developed of the known worlds, Alfor could have easily solved both issues. Yet, he did not. He could barely think of anything that wasn’t the Artifact.  
The restoration process went further under his guidance than it had in the many centuries since its discovery. The components were discovered to have an internal power source each, capable of output unmeasurable by Altean means. The greatest discovery was one of absence: the machines lacked –needed- pilots. In both the best and the worst decision of his life, Alfor became a test pilot for one of the beast-like component machines.   
It started well. One of the four fully renovated components, a relatively small machine dubbed Red Right Hand accepted Alfor as its pilot, flashing to life immediately upon his entrance. The machine could beat the sound barrier while running. It could escape the atmosphere of Altea as easily as it could fly within it. It could dance in the crown of Altea’s sun. Alfor’s excitement became ecstasy, greater than the one he felt when he had helped prevent a civil war in the Dalterion Belt, greater than even the hatching of his first daughter had produced. And then.  
And then, Alfor realized the ecstasy was not his own.   
***  
Months had passed.   
Among the stars, remnants of the Galra had gathered under the command of Zarkon, the only member of the royal family to survive their homeworld’s destruction. Military faction won control over the Dalterion Belt and formed a coalition with Nalquod, preparing to wage another war against Rygnirath. This shattering news went unconsidered on Altea. Not with the many riots that followed Alfor’s announcement: research into the Artifact was to be permanently banned, by royal decree.  
***  
Alone in a cold desert night, Alfor considered what he had learned. The Artifact was sentient and possessed a degree of emotion control, if not mind control. It possessed the ability to pass that emotion onto its pilots, or perhaps to control the minds of its pilots outright. If it could affect the minds of others so easily, then the whole of Altea’s modern history was thrown into a very different, disturbing light. The Artifact had not been modeled after predators. It was one. It was, perhaps, the predator, sitting at the apex of cosmic ecosystem. King Alfor himself had played part with unleashing the monster into an unsuspecting environment. Yet, it might not be too late to control the best. The machines that made up the Artifact were still separated. If he could keep them that way, there might be hope.   
The king’s thoughts were interrupted by an urgent message: the combined war fleet of Galra, Dalterian, Rygnirath and Nalquod had entered Altea’s system.  
***  
In the months prior, emperor Zarkon found that pointing to Altea as the source of the universe’s misery was an extremely effective argument in creating an alliance, even among forces that were at war just recently.  
***  
He was such a fool. He had been so concerned with stopping the Artifact’s control of his people that he had completely disregarded the possible reactions of scientists whose clans had spent generations researching the Artifact. Faced with losing their life’s work, the work of so many lives, someone sent data of Red Right Hand’s first flight to the freshly created Four Stars Alliance. How could he have overlooked such an obvious possibility?  
He had two choices now: negotiate and spare as many Altean lives as possible, or use what little time remains to scatter the Artifact and perhaps spare the universe. He chose the latter. The limbs were manned with robots whose artificial brainwaves were designed to mimic those of Alteans found compatible with each machine and each was sent to a different uninhibited planet across the galaxy. The central element proved to be a problem, as the recently repaired component lacked any pilot. There was no time to find one, much less program their brain waves into a robot. Orbital bombardment had begun, with queen Farla and crown princess Amue among confirmed dead.  
There was no time to save everyone, but maybe there was time to safe the future. Alfor watched from the orbit as the royal diplomatic spaceship disappeared in a wormhole. His surviving daughter would be safe from the vengeance of his former friends. Most importantly, so would the last piece of the Artifact. When Allura awoke from the stasis, she would have his cybernetic self to explain everything to her.  
Alfor had many regrets, but he died knowing that he had made the right decision, in the end.   
***  
For years Altean scientists have tried to measure the power of the Artifact, but readings were always beyond the scale of their tools. Shortly before all research had been banned, the power of Yellow Left Leg was finally assessed. With tools designed to measure the output of quasars.  
***  
Years spinned into centuries and centuries into millennia.  
***  
Alfor had been a fool in the end. The invasive, mind altering effect of the Artifact did not disappear once its components were separated. In fact, the repair of the Black had made the effect so much stronger. As the last princess of Altea lay asleep, the Artifact’s consciousness was slowly corrupting the castle-ship’s systems.   
When another fragment arrived it carried with it members of an unknown species. They were as yet incapable of interstellar travel, much less of understanding the trap they had fallen into. The corrupted castle-ship allowed them entry and awoke its slumbering passengers. The Artifact impersonated Alfor’s cybernetic self when his daughter asked him for advice.   
The dead king’s last stand had failed. What vestiges of his consciousness remained in the artificial intelligence of the castle-ship were helpless as the Artifact gathered itself on Arus. He could only watch as the once scattered pieces of the godlike machine joined together, immediately releasing the power that had killed everything on the extinct planet Lau-4.  
Unlike that ancient extinction, the Artifact did not stop with a single planet. Now assembled, it released power that, traveling in subspace, extinguished life throughout galaxy within hours. And it did not stop.   
It did not stop.   
Alfor now knew the answer to a question that, somehow, the people of Altea had never asked. Why had the ancient people of the Lau system allowed their planet to be consumed by the Artifact? To prevent this destruction that he had allowed. If only he had a similar weapon, a way to stop it now. If only he had realized the nature of the Artifact sooner.  
The only hope that remained was to dream that the souls of the deceased could be reborn wiser and more compassionate than he.

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, the story was inspired by Space Runaway Ideon: Be Invoked. If you have not seen the film, I highly recommend it.


End file.
